Defiance: Dragonics & Runics Part I

by A. Wrighton

  Nylan did not look at Kalyna. Just the book. He felt her staring at him with her big eyes. The knowledge burned.

  “You know something, don’t you?”

  Nylan shrugged. “This isn’t my people’s first visit to your realm, Kalyna. We do have maps – from long ago.”

  Kalyna fought to control her volume. “You know where Lynae Palace is – don’t you?”

  “We should ask Commander Paine—”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “He’s rigid in his ways. He’s already forbidden me to go inside if we do find it. For me to see that mural is the only way I can learn and he’d never allow that. The Sickness… but I know about the Sickness. It would have already affected me, if it were still here and able to. It would’ve affected the Dragons too.”

  “Probably.”

  “So then, you agree?”

  “To?”

  “Telling me how to get there.”

  Nylan exhaled. “Yes and no.”

  “You’re not going to stop me.”

  “I figured that much, Kalyna. But what you don’t realize is that I will be coming with you, if only to protect you from whatever is out there and Alaister.”

  She laughed. “We’ll see how that ends up, Nylan.”

  “Yes, yes we will.”

  Kalyna looked around before scooting closer, her voice dropping. “Vee told me that there was once a landing area for the Dragons at Lynae Palace. Is that true?”

  Nylan nodded slowly.

  “Perfect! I know there was a book about the interior of the palace around here somewhere… saw it when I was sorting.” Kalyna dug through the piles without giving further care as to why the Lythgorians had maps and why Nylan had chosen now to disclose it. The answers to that were not hers to discern. They were of no consequence. She had to get to the palace to stand a chance at survival. Nothing else mattered. They were going and Nylan knew the way.

  “You going to help?” she asked before digging deeper into the books.

  Nylan remained eerily still. Nylan wanted to help, but his body disobeyed his commands. His chest tightened at what he saw. He could not speak. He could not think. His hands itched and arms ached. A shudder passed from his feet and through his core. He had seen it.

  Kalyna noticed his stare and searched the ground around her. She did not see whatever it was that transfixed Nylan. She scrunched up her nose in the childlike manner she often did and shook her head puzzled. She questioned his gaze, but he did not hear her. All he could do was see – see it.

  She jabbed his shoulder hard. “I said – what are you staring at?”

  Nylan blinked and shook his body awake. “You have ink?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I?” Nylan reached for her leather wristband but Kalyna jerked her hand back like a wounded animal. He nodded. It was special to her, or at least the band itself was. He stared after it and nodded, coaxing with a gentle smile. A bigger smile. “Please?”

  Exhaling, Kalyna unbound the wristband and exposed the full swath of purplish black ink. It wrapped around the underside of her wrist until its cursive lettering reached the edges where it billowed up onto the other side. It was beautiful.

  “Why do you cover it?”

  “It was in a letter my mother left me. I think that it is some form of Drakanic that I haven’t quite figured out yet. People tend to frown upon written Drakanic out here – makes you seem like a Runic.”

  Kalyna winked, but Nylan rejected any part of her nervous laughter or sentimental glee. He stared at the ink and gently, albeit hesitantly, traced it. It was beyond a doubt impossible. But then, he had been dealing with impossibilities a lot recently. He tapped the ink and stared some more. “It’s not Drakanic,” Nylan said.

  “What?”

  “It’s not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Trust me, Kaly. I know.”

  Kalyna made Nylan look at her. Shock danced in her eyes. “What aren’t you telling me? Again?”

  “Your mother wrote an entire letter in this?”

  “It ended in this. Do you know what it means?”

  “It says – one with all – all with natures.”

  Kalyna stared at the ink. The impact of her tattoo’s deciphering hit hard. She had thought her mother had left her a sweet, loving goodbye – not a riddle. “Huh…” She paused and looked at Nylan. “How do you know?”

  “It’s written in Old Lythgorian.”

  Kalyna’s mouth fell open and stayed that way for a while. Nylan almost reached out to shut it twice, but felt better of it under the surveillance the Rogues imposed on he and his men. If the Rouges did not like him before, the sight of him touching their prized possession would not help his case. But, Kalyna’s shocked-drained face was starting to unnerve. His words – not the translation – had hit with the force of a Dragon’s wings. He could see the twinge of recognition in her metallic eyes. She knew that there could only be one reason her mother knew Lythgorian.

  “My mother was one of you?”

  “Some offense taken.”

  “Sorry, you know I don’t mean it like that… I just…”

  “I don’t know how else she’d know our language. Do you?”

  “No it’s… we can’t tell Alaister. Not yet, at least.”

  “I know,” Nylan said. He understood the truth in her request. And he wanted no part in telling his newfound ally that their plan had more than a simple snag in it.

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Perhaps she wanted you to be accepting of others, despite your heritage and to accept the Runes blessed upon you.”

  “I was born a Soleran Runic. There is nothing blessed about those powers or circumstances.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  Nylan replaced Kalyna’s leather wrist guard and laced it tight. “I can ask the High Runics, if you like. Maybe it’s something they would know…”

  “Later Nylan,” she nodded. “Right now, you have a lost palace’s landing location to remember.”

  Alaister watched Nylan and Kalyna laugh heartily over something. They were too close for having just met, and he fought to stifle the urge to separate them and make them sit on different rocks. To make them see that they could not declare themselves inseparable friends yet – they had just met. They did not know if they could trust him. For all he knew – Nylan Bendran, Commander of the Third Lythgorian Dragonics – was the murderer of one of the Rogues’ closest allies – Crown Princess Carissa Lynde of Creitall. Alaister shook off the suspicion as he watched Nylan, with all his giddy laughter and smiles; he was too kind for that. Too soft.

  Callon knelt beside Alaister, his side finally numb to the ache of his injury from the medics’ poultice. He hunched over and looked between Alaister and the odd pair Kalyna and Nylan made. He did not say anything on his approach that startled Alaister, though not enough to force his eyes off Kalyna long enough to look at Callon for explanation.

  Metal scraped against leather as Callon dropped his weaponry belt with a sigh. “Well, I didn’t think it possible, but we finally found someone as pale as Kalyna.”

  Alaister did not laugh.

  “She’s a big girl, Al. She can more than handle herself. She’ll be fine with him and the other Darklings.”

  “They’re Dragonics too, Cal.”

  “Darkling Dragonics.”

  “Of all the stories you’ve been told, the one you actually believe is the most ludicrous of all.”

  “Hey, they could be blood drainers. They could do it while we sleep…which is why I am sleeping with both swords in my arms tonight.”

  Alaister wanted desperately to laugh but could only spare a smile. A smile the wary eye of Nylan caught in a glance over his shoulder. Nylan nodded respectfully and then returned his attentions to whatever Kalyna said to him.

  “You always sleep with your swords.”

  “You have to trust her.”

  “And him,” Alaister said.<
br />
  “Yeah…I guess.”

  “I don’t buy she’ll stay content just reading those scrolls and books though, Cal. And if we do find the Ruins, she won’t be satisfied with standing outside while we look inside. I know her. She won’t be sated with just that.”

  “Then I suggest you sleep with both eyes open.”

  Alaister nodded and laughed. It was truthful, though an unusual statement to come from his habitually sarcastic friend. “Callon, that’s the smartest thing I’ve heard come out of you in a while.”

  LEOSAN CAVERN

  SOUTHERN SOLERAN MOUNTAINS, SOLASTI

  Alaister could not sleep and the snores coming from his men did nothing to help ease his mind. They only snored when they were anxious. Alaister looked to his left at Callon, passed out on his back, hands clutching his rapiers. To his right, between Lanthar and him, lay the sleeping bodies of the Lythgorians. The cavern was still. Asleep, except for the soft rustle that came from across the way, by the stacks of books and scrolls.

  Kalyna’s sleeping blankets twitched.

  The blankets moved again and Alaister stifled a smile. Kalyna was a stubborn woman but ever predictable. If he had wanted to, he could have risen, grabbed her, and made her stay. Except he wanted to know. Something in him wanted to see what she had found, what she had realized and failed to share. Alaister bit back his lecture on withholding information as he watched Kalyna kneel beside Nylan. She looked about before rousing him. Instantly, Nylan rose and adjusted his weaponry.

  Alaister’s chest tightened, but he did not move. He still felt the same about Nylan as he did from the beginning. He was too soft to actually be a real threat… perhaps. And, Kalyna trusted Nylan, possibly more than she trusted him – though the logic of such trust eluded Alaister. The thought stung; his need to know why burned. Alaister slid back into his bedding with shut eyes. He felt the air pass as Kalyna and Nylan crept by his body.

  Kalyna hesitated as she passed Alaister. He could smell the softly floral of her hair and heard her dress ruffle beside him. Kneeling, Kalyna pulled the blanket up to Alaister’s chin, her fingertips pausing on his shoulder. Alaister fought the urge to open his eyes and stop her. Her fingers felt like fresh linen against his rough face and when they left, he solidified his resistance to reaching out after her. He had to know why she insisted on sneaking around; he had to know what she hid from him, but not the Lythgorian.

  As quickly as she had stopped, Kalyna was gone. Alaister slowly opened his eyes and rose to a hunched crouching position. He found his weapon belt and checked his sidearm tracking her silhouette as it disappeared into the tunnel. Alaister stood softly, as not to disturb Callon, and followed them, clinging to the shadows. He stopped behind a boulder near the exit and watched Nylan throw something into the air that snapped and released a flash of red light.

  Within three beats of his heart, Fynix’s large black and greenish blue form landed outside the entrance. Nylan extended his hand for Kalyna. She took it with only a moment’s glance behind.

  Alaister ducked as Kalyna’s sight fell on the boulder he hid behind and held his breath for a discovery that never came. In his next inhale, the sound of beating wings filled the air. Popping up, he watched as Kalyna and Nylan disappeared into the night sky.

  Alaister ran out and stared up after them. He had no idea how he should pursue them. Either Nylan was to be trusted and was protecting Kalyna in her excursion or it was a trap. He glanced behind. No one. The other Lythgorians still slept and the Lythgorian Dredth had not been seen since their ordered departure. He searched his brain for options. Possibilities.

  Alaister whistled for Jaxin.

  There was a third possibility – that their ever-cunning Runic was using Nylan because she needed him to find something for her. Alaister could not put it past Kalyna, and it smarted that she had taken it upon herself to wriggle Nylan into her confidant, instead of him. Alaister was charged with protecting her – not Nylan.

  With a soft leap into the white saddle, Alaister stalked the pair until Fynix’s dark mass was spotted. Then, Alaister climbed high above Fynix then and leveled Jaxin out, so they could both settle in for the duration of the flight.

  According to the Sword of Durent, they were heading southeast.

  They were heading straight for Mount Lynae.

  MOUNT LYNAE, SOLASTI

  SOUTHERN SOLERAN MOUNTAINS

  Fynix banked and pulled tighter along the mountainside. In the darkness, Nylan saw what his training had described – a small opening, barely the size of a human on a tiny ledge that Fynix could never possibly land on. As he opened his mouth to relay the observation, Kalyna squeezed his arm from her perch behind him.

  “Set down on the ledge above it.”

  “The ledge? What ledge?”

  “Above. See it?”

  “Kalyna…”

  “I know it’s mostly gone now but…”

  “But what?”

  “Please Nylan – this is it. Right?”

  Nylan knew he should not indulge the woman, but he could not help it. He was too curious not to obey her wishes now. And, she pulled at his deeper alliances. She was one of his Kind. Lythgorian loyalty was not the thing of childhood tales and ghost stories. There was a reason all the Lythgorian bedtime stories always had two Darklings present, instead of one. Never alone. Never without another at their side. They would land — even if the ledge was far too small for a Beast of Fynix’s size and for a Dragonic with any sense. Nylan swallowed his excuses and commanded his Beast to settle on the ground once again.

  Fynix cawed an amused roar before obediently gliding lower to land. His massive body smothered the earth. Rocks cascaded down the mountainside where his tail and wings hit the edges.

  Nylan dismounted, found solid footing, and extended an arm for Kalyna. She took it and found a thin wedge of footing behind him. She smiled and scanned the vivid fall down. Fynix nipped at the air as Nylan’s weight sent even more rocks tumbling from the ledge. The Beasts was restless. Angry even. Panic filled the Beast’s deep eyes and Nylan knew his stupidly loyal Beast was about to break ranks and abandon them, if he did not command Fynix to take wing himself. Nylan smiled at the Beast’s devotion before commanding him with a wave of his hand. Fynix chortled and lurched up – a cascade of rocks departing with him.

  Nylan looked at Kalyna expecting to find her mischievous smile, but it was gone – replaced by a thin-lipped face of confusion. Nylan let the air sink in, the surroundings. He nodded. “Something’s off here.”

  “You feel it too?” Kalyna asked without looking for an answer. She said nothing further, though her copper eyes spoke volumes, as did the unhindered pink flush in her cheeks.

  Nylan considered the slight possibility that the lessons he had learned about the Soleran Sickness had been wrong. He had no way of knowing if Kalyna was affected or just showing her normal lack of control. Her emotions were king in disrupting her focus and right now, Nylan could not imagine that her emotions were not deep at play. Through the tunnel was the seat of the Runic Race – the origin of the hatred, the war, the strife – the place where Soleran Runic humanity ceased to exist. Where a plagued Queen did her Kind the final, killing blow.

  Nylan shook the thoughts away. Kalyna had made a strong case – the Beasts would have sensed it. They would already have been affected. Aside from the jarring tension and stillness in the air, nothing was altered. Fynix happily circled above them. Everything, though nowhere near ordinary, appeared natural.

  Nylan looked up just in time to jerk Kalyna back from the crumbling edge. A small river of rocks cascaded down without her. Nylan scanned Kalyna’s face. Her expression was normal. Her breathing normal. Her cheeks were devoid of a telling flush.

  “Watcher be! Kaly, are you trying to get me killed?”

  “What? I would’ve caught myself…”

  “If I bring you back with one broken hair on your head, Paine will have my head.”

  Her humor resurrected with a laug
h that shook her flaxen locks. Nylan saw it then. Something deep inside. Something so off that he should have, for her own good and for his, stopped their expedition. Except, he had to know if she was right. He had to know if there were Runes she could actually use for the Causes – powerful Runes that had not been uttered in generations.

  Nylan looked again at the glimmer - the eerie oddness of picturesque power. Before him, Kalyna glowed from the inside with a surreal energy that tinted her copper eyes lavender. He stammered for breath and quickly recovered with a smile.

  “Alaister will be fine. Besides,…” she said pausing only long enough to leap off the ledge suspending herself with Air Runes. “It’s not me you have to worry about, Nylan. Now are you coming or not?”

  “I’m coming, but I can’t do...whatever that is.”

  “Give me your hand.”

  He obeyed and reached out to Kalyna. Her hands were tepid and dry when he took them, and the freshly lavender eyes were colored black – vibrantly so.

  “I think this place amplifies your powers.” Nylan waited for a reply that did not come. “Down more should be the servants’ canyon exit. The palace is on the other side of these rocks – or what is left of it is.”

  Kalyna nodded but remained focused on her Runes as she lowered them down to another small ledge with a smaller opening half covered in a cascade of towering rocks. They had to duck down to enter.

  “I wish you could feel this, Nylan. There’s this weird tingling rush. Everywhere. Like millions of little pinches inside and out. It’s thrilling… really.”

  He did not believe her; her eyes showed her fear. And, as quickly as he saw it, Kalyna shook her head and inhaled to clear the effects of the Air Runes. Kalyna put her hand on her hips willing her lungs to slow. They pounded relentlessly. Carrying her weight with Runes she was used to, but with Nylan’s added mass, it had been taxing - amplified or not.

  Nylan’s Runic friend, Salena, had once tried to explain the cost for Air Runes to him, but it had fallen mostly flat. Nuances lost, Nylan knew only that there was an exchange of air for displacing air and while he was curious if Kalyna’s breathlessness was from the Air Runes or the ruins themselves, he let his question rest in respectful silence. Instead, Nylan shoved at the crumbled rocks at the end of the tunnel that lead the side entrance of a former crowned, architectural jewel.